


Christmas Ghosts

by Minervas_Revenge



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2018-12-18
Packaged: 2019-09-21 18:56:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17048735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Minervas_Revenge/pseuds/Minervas_Revenge
Summary: Draco Malfoy has returned to Britain after a five year absence and his sudden reappearance stirs Hermione Granger’s memories.





	Christmas Ghosts

**Christmas, 2004**

Between the two of them, Harry and Pansy had managed to turn Gimmauld Place into a lovely wizarding home. Hermione enjoyed hearing sounds of happiness inside the building that had once sheltered her in times of deep fear. She settled her cloak on a hook and admired the family portraits and photos now lining the narrow entry hall, following the chatter of joyful voices to the Christmas party.

 

The formal dining room was bursting with wizards and witches; Hermione stood on her toes to search for a familiar face.

 

“Finally,” hissed a frustrated voice.

 

A hand wrapped around Hermione’s wrist and pulled her out of the room.

 

“Malfoy?” Hermione asked, concerned.

 

While they had developed a tenuous not-really-speaking-just-tolerating-each-other relationship, there was nothing between them to explain Draco dragging Hermione from the Potters’ Christmas Party and up a flight of stairs.

 

“What took you so long?”

 

A thoughtful once-over told Hermione that Draco Malfoy was drunk.  The tall blond swayed just a bit before steadying himself against the wall and there was a glint in his gaze that she didn’t recognize. Dead curious to know what business Malfoy thought he had with her, Hermione decided to indulge him.

 

“Couldn’t be helped. Luna and Rolf needed a hand with the twins… _How are you_?” she asked, hoping to prompt a coherent reply.

 

“I’m annoyed, obviously,” he drawled with an exaggerated gesture of his arm.

 

“Oh?” Hermione tried, again.

 

“I’m leaving tomorrow and I wanted to say good-bye.”

 

“You’re leaving tomorrow?” Hermione repeated, still at a bit of a loss.

 

“Isn’t that what I said?” he asked, looking pained. He shook his head and took Hermione’s hand in both of his.

 

Brows furrowed, Hermione glanced at their joined hands then up into Draco’s face. _What in Merlin’s name..?_

 

“You should know… Before I go… That rhymed!”

 

Draco’s amusement strained Hermione’s patience.

 

“Malfoy,” she began.

 

“Draco,” he corrected.

 

“Fine. Draco, what should I know before you go?”

 

Malfoy burst into laughter and Hermione felt her cheeks burn. She had only herself to blame, really. The wizard, in his mirth, released her hand and Hermione recognized the opportunity.

 

“I’m going to rejoin the party, Mal-Draco,” she announced and spun, eager to escape inebriated Malfoy.  

 

“Wait!” he growled.

 

Rather than a hand, a spell caught Hermione and she was unable to take another step.

 

“Malfoy,” she growled, thoroughly aggravated.

 

“Just, wait,” he ordered, sounding bothered, as well.

 

The spell anchoring Hermione lifted and she faced the wizard, once more.

 

“Well?”

 

A familiar scowl pinched his features.

 

“I just can’t say it.”

 

“Are you all right?” Hermione grudgingly asked. She would rather not get involved if the git was in trouble; but, with Harry their mutual friend, she’d be tangled in it sooner or later.

 

Malfoy gave a lopsided shrug and tripped towards her. The next thing she knew, his lips were pressed to hers and his hands were fisted in her robes. Unexpected fire lit in Hermione’s stomach and radiated out to her limbs. Startled and flattered and confused, Hermione let the kiss continue.

 

Malfoy tasted like Firewhisky and, despite his intoxicated state, knew precisely how to finesse Hermione into a deeper kiss. The world disappeared as Hermione lost herself. A moan lifted through her that started from her toes as his mouth moved to her neck and a hand caressed her bare thigh. When Draco slowly disengaged, Hermione sucked in a breath and blinked at him. He looked conflicted; half-scared, half-pleased. Hermione huffed, not sure how she felt, either.

 

“Draco!”

 

At the motherly call, Hermione realized that she was sprawled under Malfoy up the stairs, robes about her thighs. _How had that happened?_ She struggled to disentangle and right herself before Narcissa discovered them. Malfoy managed to free himself, first.

 

“Cheers,” he said with a sad smile, and then disappeared around the corner.

 

Flummoxed, Hermione abandoned trying to get to her feet and remained where she was. _Had that really happened? Had Draco Malfoy really just snogged her? And, apparently, he was leaving? As in, moving away?_

 

A frosty-gazed wizard appeared at the foot of the stairs. Hermione sat up and stared back. Lucius Malfoy must have suspected his son’s behavior and decided to investigate. Daring him to speak a word, Hermione gathered her Gryffindor courage and stood. With a slight lift of his brow, the wizard followed after his son and Hermione let out a breath. She waited a few moments more, brushing off her robes and smoothing her curls, before descending. She had no interest in facing either Malfoy as they left the party.

 

**Christmas, 2009**

 

For the first time, Hermione did not put a lot of thought into a decision. An invitation to a Christmas party at Malfoy Manor was delivered and she immediately decided that she would attend.

 

Draco’s drunken snog session the night before he moved away with his family had lingered in Hermione’s mind like little else. She neither attempted to contact him nor wasted away, pining for his return. Five years had passed. But the memory of his affection remained poignant in her brain. 

 

When Hermione recognized the Malfoy wax seal on the invitation scroll, her heart skipped. No matter his circumstances, Hermione needed to see Draco, again. It was possible he had no memory of their stairwell snog. It was possible he was married and had children. Regardless, Hermione wanted to at least set her eyes on him.

 

Only one detail gave Hermione pause; the invitation was from Narcissa and Lucius. It was quite possible Draco wouldn’t be there.

 

Regardless, Hermione found herself Disapparating for Malfoy Manor almost two weeks since receiving the invitation. Confidence high in part-Muggle, part-witch dress robes, Hermione joined the queue of wizards and witches moving towards entrance to the gothic mansion. A few familiar faces nodded towards Hermione but her nerves prevented her from socializing. _What if Draco didn’t remember? What if he wasn’t even there?_

 

When Hermione reached the foyer, she was wound too tightly to do more than nod and smile at Narcissa and Lucius. The couple greeted her graciously, welcoming her to their home but, as she half-expected, Draco was nowhere to be seen. Hermione supposed it was her notoriety that had earned her an invitation and not a request of their treasured son.

 

More disappointed than she expected, Hermione meandered the edges of the ballroom, wondering how to subtly slip away. A live orchestra performed at one end of the massive room and a few chairs were scattered throughout but most attendees were dancing. Hermione paused to watch the dancing, sad that she hadn’t a partner and dejected that she could not confront Draco.

 

“Hermione!”

 

Hearing her name called by a familiar voice, Hermione found herself grinning at Neville Longbottom.

 

“Happy Christmas, Neville,” she replied.

 

“Happy Christmas,” he replied, bussing her cheek. “Want to dance?”

 

“Yes, I’d like that,” she said.

 

Neville was not a skilled dancer; however, Hermione was entertained by his stories about teaching Herbology at Hogwarts. As a new professor, Neville did as much learning as the students.

 

Out of the corner of her eye, Hermione thought she spotted a flash of Draco’s distinctive blond hair and she twisted her head to look again. Whatever it had been as gone. There was no white-blond hair in sight.

 

Unsettled by her imagination, Hermione begged off another dance and sought refreshment. A banquet table of punchbowls and floating cups waited in the corridor just outside the ballroom. Hermione helped herself to punch and wandered, looking at the paintings of landscapes rather than the glaring portraits.  

 

As another song ended, a small crowd surged into the corridor in search of drink. Hermione set her cup on a tray and made her way back into the ballroom. She audibly gasped to espy the white-blond hair she thought she’d seen earlier. Unfortunately, it was Lucius she was ogling. Hermione rolled her eyes at herself and wondered if she should simply leave. It had been almost an hour and she wouldn’t be missed.

 

As she struggled against the crowd returning to the ballroom, she called herself every kind of fool. What had she really thought would happen? Five years had passed and Draco had been utterly soused. Did she really think he would return for her?

 

“Don’t go,” said a voice, the voice she’d been hoping to hear all night, every night, for five years. “You haven’t danced with me, yet.”

 

Like that, Hermione was staring into Draco Malfoy’s pale eyes.

 

Hands took Hermione’s hands and she felt herself being steered onto the dance floor and through simple dance steps. Relief and giddiness surged through Hermione. It was as if she danced on a cloud with the only wizard in the world.

 

“You’re here,” she breathed.

 

“And so are you,” he replied with a smirk.

 

Draco led her through a turn and then pulled her close.

 

“Did you… Why did you kiss me and then leave?”

 

“The leaving wasn’t up to me. And, if I hadn’t been inebriated, I might not have kissed you.”

 

Draco gave an eloquent shrug and Hermione decided not to ask more questions. Perhaps he had no answers. She settled her head on his chest, listening to his heart beat as they swayed. The sensation of his arms about her was answer enough.

 

As the song ended, Draco led Hermione to a standstill and she reluctantly stepped back from his embrace. But, Draco’s hands tightened on her arms.

 

“No,” he said, frowning.

 

“Another dance?” Hermione asked.

 

“No. I mean yes, but that’s not what I mean.”

 

Draco grasper her wrist and pulled her out of the room and down the corridor, far from the other guests.

 

Hermione grinned. “What do you want, Draco?”

 

“To hear you speak my name every day. To fall asleep beside you and wake up beside you. And everything in between.”

 

Hermione’s heart began thumping. _Where had this come from?_

 

“I thought I’d forget. I thought if I stayed away long enough, I could forget this feeling…”

 

“I don’t understand. Why did you want to forget it?”

 

“Because you’re you and I’m me. You deserve-”

 

“Don’t say it,” Hermione interrupted. She pressed her lips to his and found that five years had done nothing to quell the desire Draco inspired to burn inside of her.

 

“Draco!”

 

It was his father’s voice, this time, that ripped through their moment.

 

“Not again,” Hermione breathed.

 

Draco looked down into Hermione’s face. “Come with me?”

 

“Yes,” she grinned.

 

“Happy Christmas, father,” Draco said and then Disapparated them away.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Written in response to a prompt for the Strictly Dramione Facebook Group’s 2018 Yultide Magic Fest. Prompt: Ghost of Christmas Past.


End file.
